


With Anyone Who'll Lie Down

by Tomibunny (Tomigiru)



Category: Marvel 616, The Defenders (Comic)
Genre: (I'm tired of tagging all of this there's a LOT of sex okay?), (it's Matt), (the story of Danny's life basically), Angst, Costume Kink, Deepthroating, F/M, LOTS OF IT...I CAN'T BELIEVE I ALMOST FORGOT TO TAG FOR THE ANGST, M/M, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Trans Male Character, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, vibrating robot arm (get hype)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-04-13 22:41:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14122392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tomigiru/pseuds/Tomibunny
Summary: Danny's sleeping his way out of this one.A.K.A. How Not To Deal With Being In Love With Your Best Friend (And Maybe His Wife?)





	1. Stephen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny's looking for an excuse not to think, and Stephen has magic fingers--literally. 
> 
> (Fingering, anal sex, gape, stretching, inappropriate use of magic--unless you, like Stephen, know that sex is a perfectly appropriate application of magic, light dirty talk)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick note--I'll be listing the kinks that come up in the chapters in the chapter summary! Cuz I ain't tagging every single kink that shows up in this--it'd be a wall of tags.

This was stupid. He knew it was. He knew exactly what he was doing, even if he told himself he didn’t. That was probably the worst part—the battle in his mind between admitting it and not. The hiss of “you know exactly why you’re here, and it’s not going to fix anything” with the quick snappy reply of “I’m only here because I want to be, there’s nothing deeper than that.” Neither side was winning, he told himself. That was a lie, too.

He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. It wasn’t like they were going to stop him from going through with this.

“Immortal Iron Fist,” Wong bows his head slightly when he opens the door, but his tone and eyes hold something…irreverent. Playful, almost. “To what do we owe this visit?” Danny shuffled on his feet a bit. This was stupid. Wong wasn’t a psychic…not to mention the man was perfectly kind, if a bit…mischievous. He wasn’t trying to embarrass him—and anyhow, he shouldn’t let himself be embarrassed. Stupid.

“I’m here to see Stephen about a personal matter.” That was the professional way to talk about a booty call, right? He wasn’t sure. The people he usually hooked up with didn’t have doormen.

“Of course.” The sparkle of knowing in Wong’s eyes only grew. It made Danny feel even worse than he already had as he shuffled inside the brownstone. Even if he knew Wong wasn’t doing it to be hurtful, he was just angry enough at himself to amplify that kind of thing.

The entryway to the Sanctum had changed yet again—Danny wondered if it was for his benefit, but brushed the thought away. That didn’t seem like something Stephen would do, especially for something like…this. Danny wasn’t some fancy date. He sat down in one of the armchairs, knowing better than to go wandering around looking for Stephen on his own. Sure enough, as soon as he had settled in the chair, Stephen was there, stepping out of thin air, cape billowing.

“Danny.” His smile had a bit of a nervous edge to it. At least Danny wasn’t alone in how he was feeling.

“Hi Stephen, uh, how’s it going? The room looks nice, love what you’ve done with the place. Comfy chairs. Kinda, y’know, the kind you get stuck in, but nice.” Babbling. Stupid. People who were friends with him could barely put up with that shit, and here he was attempting to ruin a potential fuck with it. Stephen, luckily, only responded with a curious head tilt and a more relaxed smile.

“Why don’t you let me show you some other parts of the house?” Stephen asked. Danny was embarrassed by how quickly he hopped out of the chair. Yeah, he was desperate, but he didn’t need that to be obvious. Stephen, again, didn’t seem to mind. Danny wondered if there was a course on extreme patience when you were taught to be Sorceror Supreme.

“I’d like that,” he added lamely.

It was two minutes before Danny was being slammed against the back of a door, Stephen’s long, scarred fingers wrapped around his cock.

“Fuck,” Danny whimpered, bucking his hips and trying to grab at any part of Stephen that he could reach.

“Soon.” Stephen replied, a smug look on his face. He moved back to attacking Danny’s neck, no doubt leaving a hickey. He’d been aiming for the same spot over Danny’s jugular. Claiming him. Danny wasn’t super into that, conceptually, but the idea that…it would be seen…by _certain people_ …the fact that people would know what he’d been up to…he liked that.

“How would you like it?” Stephen asked, removing his free hand from where it had been pressed to Danny’s chest. Danny wiggled, his hips still very interested in what Stephen’s hand was doing. “Danny?”

“Oh, uh…fuck, dude, up to you.” Danny said. Stephen nodded, something odd in his expression before he snapped his fingers and muttered something that sounded like Latin. A bed—overly large and round—appeared.

“Make yourself comfortable.” He said, drawing away. Danny groaned at the loss of those fingers, but was carried forward by the idea that they’d soon be somewhere even better. He shed what was left of his clothes—boxers and his undershirt—on the way to the bed. He climbed on, getting on all fours.

The sharp inhale from where Stephen was standing made his cock twitch. At least when it was just sex, his body made up for his personality, right?

Stephen’s hands were on him in seconds. Running over his spine, appreciating the bend of it, the tightness of the muscles before dropping down to his ass.

“Do you mind if I…” Stephen trailed off as Danny felt an unusual, yet oddly familiar tingle against his skin. Magic. Stephen wanted to use magic. Danny moaned, a fat drop of pre-cum falling to the sheets.

“By the heart of the dragon, yes.” He muttered. Stephen muttered a short, thankful sound in response, pressing his hands to Danny’s cheeks and spreading them. Danny was already dripping, lube shiny and wet on his hole. Stephen groaned at the sight.

“You prepared yourself ahead of time.”

“Maybe more than once.” Danny admitted. It was true, he’d fingered himself pathetically in the entryway of his own apartment, practically sobbing, and again in the bathroom of the Heroes for Hire office. It hadn’t had anything to do with this, but Stephen didn’t need to know that. Just like Stephen didn’t need to know why.

Stephen didn’t seem to be focused enough to catch whether Danny’s voice had wavered at all—if it even had. He’d gotten very good at lying recently. Either way, Stephen was far gone. Entranced. He ran his fingers over Danny’s crack, smearing the lube further. The insinuation of sparks danced on Danny’s skin as those magic-imbued fingers rubbed at him, tugging and pressing, spreading him lewdly.

Those long fingers dipped in easily, two at once. The magic made it burn, tingle, feel indescribably pleasurable. Near-numbing in how hard the sensation was for his brain to process. Pure, unadulterated bliss being shot through his nerves so quickly his body barely had time to react.

“Two already.” Stephen said, voice light with amazement, rubbing hard against Danny’s prostate. Danny sobbed, feeling filthy. The Sorcerer Supreme of Earth was calling him easy. Loose.

“More. At least four. Fuck.” Danny begged, letting his upper body collapse to the bed.

"Hm?” Danny couldn’t see him, but he knew Stephen was doing that head tilt of his again.

“Stretch me. Please, Stephen. Please.”

“Danny…” Stephen withdrew the two fingers currently within Danny, suddenly hesitant. His hand settled on his lower back, a radiance of relaxation rippling from where Stephen’s hand was making contact with his skin. Danny made a disgruntled noise.

“I just need a good fuck. Don’t make this weird.” He pleaded. Stephen seemed on the fence. “It’s not weird, Stephen, I have a thing for size, that’s not weird. It’s not deep or anything, stop thinking about it so hard, and please, fuck, _please_ just do _something_.”

A note of desperation in Danny’s voice. God, this had been a bad idea, hadn’t it? He should’ve just hit up some guy in a bar again. Someone who wouldn’t give a fuck when he asked to be fucked like a bitch. Someone who wouldn’t worry about destroying him.

Stephen’s fingers were back again, then, too gentle. Pressing inside, spreading him so slowly it felt like torture. Stephen took the fingers away again, but before Danny could complain, Stephen’s thumbs were hooking into him, pulling. Spreading him wide. The relaxation, a feeling like warm, tumbled opals--smooth, multicolored in a way beyond description, and just the right amount of hot--still spread through where Stephen was touching him.

He felt like he’d taken too many painkillers. He felt like all the blood in his body was in his dick and rushing in his ears. He felt like a drooling, sex-obsessed idiot. It was fantastic.

“Four, you said?” Stephen murmured, spreading Danny wider. Danny moaned, cock twitching violently. Stephen was looking at him, looking inside him. It was unbearable. He wanted him to tell him he could it more. Half delirious, Danny fed himself the porn lines that Stephen wouldn’t. _Tell me I’m a slut. Tell me I’m built for it. Tell me you want to wreck me._

“I’d rather you take something other than fingers,” is what Stephen actually said. Danny thought it was too polite, but all he could really do was nod and try to make a sound that sounded like agreement. Stephen let go of his battered hole, and Danny could feel it clenching around the sudden nothingness. The fact that Stephen could watch that made him whine. Then, he was full again.

Stephen thrust into him without ceremony. Danny cried out, half hysterical for the slap of skin on skin. Stephen set a fast pace, cock gliding in lengthy strokes against Danny’s prostate. Enough to milk him, unsatisfying spurts of cum escaping with each long thrust. Ruined orgasms. He was going to cum dry when he finally came. If he came.

No, Stephen would let him cum. He knew it. Stephen wasn’t a dick. Well, mostly wasn’t. Danny wasn’t sure if he deserved to cum, but he accepted that it’d happen. He was too busy going fuck-crazy to grind out some nonsense request for Stephen to not let him finish, anyhow.

Stephen’s dick felt amazing—otherworldly. It had to be the magic, the way he felt like he was falling apart and finally being put together all at once. The feeling faded along with Stephen’s rhythm, but when Stephen came—fucking hell. The hot gush of cum inside him felt like the world breaking in too. He felt like it was more cum that it could’ve possibly been. Danny felt suddenly like he was more relaxed than anyone ever could be. Stephen pulled out and Danny all but dissolved onto the bed.

Stephen flopped down beside him, both of them sweaty and spent. If he was looking to start a conversation with Danny--a thought that caused a pit to open up in Danny’s stomach, seemingly bottomless--he gave no indication of it. He was silently thankful. Stephen wasn’t stupid, he had to know what was going on. He had to. But as long as it didn’t get brought up, it was fine.

Danny curled in on himself, his back to Stephen. Stephen didn’t seem the cuddling type anyhow, but either way Danny didn’t want to deal with having someone be tender to him at the moment.

“Daniel.” Stephen’s voice cut through the heavy air of the room, a deep and serious timbre. Fuck, so much on not wanting to start a conversation. Danny tried to curl into himself more, wincing for what was sure to come. Maybe he was just going to ask for round two? Yeah, right. Danny chided himself--he knew damn well he was never that lucky.

Maybe if he just stayed quiet Stephen would assume he was asleep. That was reasonable, right? Normal people would be out like a light, fucked out of their minds after sex like that. That was the kind of sex that made normal people want to sleep for a week. Fuck, Danny wished he was normal people.

“Danny--” The nickname always felt weird in Stephen’s mouth. Like a word in a language he’d never learned or bothered to practice. “I can’t constantly be here to help you through your problems regarding Luke and Jessica. Especially not like this.”

It felt as if those words had slapped him across the face, No. Worse. It felt like they were winding around his heart, squeezing until he was full of nothing but ache and disgust.

“Thanks, Stephen.” He said bitterly as he hopped out of the bed, gathering his clothes as he went. “Maybe you should’ve imparted that wisdom BEFORE we fucked. Or did you just want to get a lay out of me before getting on your high horse?”

He left the room, tugging his pants on as he went and trying to ignore the slide of cum down his thighs. He didn’t look back--he didn’t want to see Stephen’s face, probably full of shock and sadness and pity. He didn’t say anything to Wong, who looked surprisingly grim, as he buttoned his pants and stepped outside of the Sanctum, still shirtless.

There were murmurs on the long walk home to his brownstone. He tried to ignore them. Tried to not think about pictures of him shirtless cropping up on the internet. Jesus, only he could fuck up a hook-up this badly. He slammed the door once he got inside his home, knowing no one would be there to complain about the noise anyhow.


	2. Misty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny and Misty don't watch Enter the Dragon together, or talk about the fact that exes shouldn't be fucking. 
> 
> (Oral sex, fingering, vibrating bionic arms [fuck yeah], brief mention of fisting, Bruce Lee's back muscles)

“Do you wanna watch a movie?” Misty asked, setting two mugs of tea on the coffee table. Danny nodded. He hated it, a bit, that she was being so nice about all of this. He wanted her to yell at him, tell him precisely how bullshit this was. As if he didn’t know. Instead, she patiently put on Enter the Dragon and sat down on the couch next to him. She was close enough that he could feel her body heat.

Why wasn’t she yelling at him? Why was it so much harder to deal with her being kind instead of angry?

“Danny, babe, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Her hand was on his arm—the organic one—and he tried to play off the way the sudden touch startled him. When was the last time he’d let himself indulge in casual contact? He’d been dodging Lu—he’d been dodging _his_ hugs and touches for months now. He met Misty’s eyes and suddenly it clicked why her kindness felt so wrong.

Pity.

She felt sorry for him. Shit. He’d become a pity fuck. The worst thing was that, knowing that, he still didn’t want to leave. He’d rather be a pity fuck than…whatever the alternative was. Not getting fucked at all.

“Sorry,” he said, smiling. “Just kind of out of it.” She looked unconvinced. His eyes drifted to the TV, desperate for something to talk about that wasn’t the subject he felt coming. “Why this movie?” He asked, genuinely curious. Misty seemed to shift back into her earlier mood—or at least go back to pretending to be happy for his sake. He didn’t want to think too much on which one it was.

“I wanted to put on something we wouldn’t have to watch that closely—you know we’ve both seen this at least 20 times.” Her smile grew sharper, eyes dancing with the possibilities of why they wouldn’t be paying attention to the movie. Danny’s body flooded with want quicker than he thought possible, the previous tension gone. It felt like he was on fire. It’d been so long…too long. He leaned forward and kissed her, nerves alight already. Misty kissed back, the veneer of a cute movie hangout ripped away as she shoved up against him, biting at his lower lip and grabbing at his t-shirt to yank it up his torso. When they separated, breathing hard, he couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of him.

“God, you’re fucking gorgeous.” He said. It was true. He thought he’d feel a pang of regret or guilt saying that—he didn’t love her anymore, after all. She didn’t love him, either. At least, not the way they thought they loved each other.Maybe never had, or maybe the other loves that were in their hearts had just been too strong to be beaten back by the small thing they had. But he didn’t feel guilty. She was gorgeous. He didn’t need to love her to know that.

“You’re not too bad yourself.” She replied, smirking. He tugged his shirt the rest of the way off, tossing it to the floor. She unbuttoned some of her top—the sight of her chest, tits cradled nicely in blue lace, made him throb. His hands moved to help, messy and nervous as they attacked the buttons. It was embarrassing—like this was his first time—but it was amazing too. Misty chuckled as she shrugged out of her shirt. Danny’s hands were on her boobs almost immediately, squeezing them through the thin fabric. He swiped a thumb over her nipple, the pert bud showing through the lace. Her breath caught, her thighs pressing together before falling apart, just a bit wider than before. Danny’s mouth watered.

“Can I eat you out?” He asked, voice small and hurried. Misty chuckled.

“I thought you’d never ask.” She pulled away from him, standing up so that she could shimmy out of her jeans. “Underwear on or off?” She asked, teasing the elastic on the black thong she was wearing. Mismatched underwear. Danny liked something about that—she had bothered to put on sexy underwear for this ( _for him_ ), but not a matching set. It fell somewhere between comfort and nerves.

“Underwear on.” He said, something about tugging the fabric to the side to eat her pussy felt right. She smiled like she knew exactly what he was thinking, settling back down on the couch, back pressed against the armrest. She spread her legs, muscular thighs like a goddamn masterpiece. Danny’s head was swimming. How had he ever deserved this woman. How did he deserve her now? He adjusted his cock in his pants—then gave himself a few quick strokes through the denim. Then, back to the matter at hand. Danny leaned down, pressing his face against Misty’s thigh, breathing in deeply.

Her skin was amazingly soft. Her hand—the metal one—moved to stroke through his hair, both encouraging and insistent. He nodded, nosing his way to her innermost thigh before pressing his mouth to the damp fabric between her legs.

“If you don’t stop teasing…” She threatened as he continued to smell and taste her through the thin barrier of cotton and lace. He glanced up at her—puppy dog eyes, as if he was begging to stay there and forget about the rest of the world in-between her thighs. Maybe he was. Still, he listened to her. Obeyed. Hooked a thumb into the side of her panties, tugging them off to the side. The wetness smeared across her pussy lips with the movement of the fabric, making her look slick and sticky. The smell was even stronger, and he moaned softly, breathing deeply.

He licked a long stripe against her pussy, stopping to flick his tongue against her clit. Her hips twitched upwards, making him smile. He swirled his tongue around her clit before closing his mouth around it, sucking softly. She groaned, hand at the back of his head pressing harder, encouraging. She tasted so good—tart and heady, like his favorite alcohol multiplied by a thousand. He brushed his hands over her thighs, moving one to her wet pussy, slipping a finger in easily. He pulled back to look at her, face covered in her juices, as he slid another finger in—slow in a way that could be called cautious. Misty would call it teasing. She was right. Of course she was—she knew him too damn well.

Too damn well to be letting him do this to the both of them, that voice in the back of his head whispered. He ignored it. Focused more closely on how gorgeous Misty was, pussy gripping his fingers.

He scissored his fingers, Misty whimpering at the stretch. Then he slid them in deeper, crooking them upwards, and rubbing against her g-spot without mercy.

“Danny, if you don’t get your mouth back on me, I’m gonna kill you.” She said, the threat tempered by how heavily she was breathing. He obeyed—how could he not—scissoring his fingers again, holding her open so he could press his tongue inside. He lapped at the gush of wet from her pussy. She gripped the couch with her free hand, pressing her legs apart further, pulling at his hair. He redoubled his efforts, fucking his tongue into her. She groaned happily, tossing her head back. Every inch of her was beautiful--and they had something.

Danny didn’t know what to call it anymore, since they both knew damn well it wasn’t love, but it was something. Even knowing that this was a pity fuck, that little ember warmed his chest in a way he hadn’t felt in a while. He moved back to licking and sucking at her clit, pressing fingers inside of her again and crooking them to rub against her g-spot. Her hips canted along with the movement--small, eager thrusts, her thighs straining. He sucked on her clit as he kept the pressure on, moving in time with her hips until her cries became higher-pitched, the walls of her pussy clamping around his fingers.

Her clit pulsed against his tongue, and he lapped at it gently through the aftershocks, moving away when her thighs started shaking a bit too much. Her slick was all over his face--spread on her thighs too, making them shiny and drawing attention to the toned muscle. Misty's whole aura softened, basking in the afterglow. Danny licked his lips, sitting up and glancing at the television. Bruce Lee, executing moves with the kind of skill people ached for.

“You know, in K’un-Lun, sexuality wasn't really a thing that people… Preoccupied themselves with.” Danny watched the screen, moving a hand to paw at his erection through his jeans. Misty shuffled slowly into a more respectable sitting position.

“Mmhm?” She prompted him to continue, moving close enough that she could press her hand on top of his, moving his hand to follow the hard line of his cock pressed against his thigh. His breath caught before he could continue.

“I told Luke, when we were watching this, about how hot I thought Bruce Lee was--he nearly had a heart attack. Went through a whole lecture trying to teach me about bisexuality after he asked if I was bi and I told him I had no idea what that was.” They both chuckled. He'd told the story before--Enter the Dragon always made him think of it. It was weird--talking about Luke, when he'd been avoiding him for weeks straight. When he'd been avoiding even thinking about Luke. Being with Misty helped, somehow. Closer to earth, closer to his heart than random bar hook-ups could ever hope to be.

She pressed a kiss to his neck and moved to undo his jeans. He scooted back, trying to make it easier for her as she unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, pulling the fly open and pulling his dick out without bothering to get rid of the jeans altogether. Danny didn’t think he’d ever been quite as thankful about deciding to go commando. Misty reached down the side of the couch cushions, coming back with a bottle of lube. Danny was of the opinion that his pre-cum--because fuck, there was a _lot_ of it after getting to eat Misty out-- would do just fine, but Misty was polite like that. When her hand was on him again, slick and smooth, he appreciated it.

She always had been smarter than him anyhow.

“Danny, baby, I need you to lay down.” Her hand was off his cock so that she could guide his body to where she wanted it. He thought mildly about the fact that she was getting lube all over him as she turned him to the side, hand on his back to guide him down so that his chest was against the arm of the couch. He put this knees under himself, lifting his ass up before she even asked. He blearily rested his head in his arms, turned to watch the TV. His cock throbbed--he'd been hard for so long. Bruce Lee on TV, muscles still very worth Danny's interest after all this time, and the promise of what Misty was planning behind him.

She pulled his jeans down further down his thighs, hand on the inside of his leg coaxing him to spread them a bit further. It was amazing how well she could command him without any words at all. He let himself melt into the couch, no discomfort in his spine as it bent at what plenty of people would say was an unnatural angle. Sometimes it paid to be flexible. Her hand ran over the curve of his ass--he startled a bit, surprised at the feeling of metal. It wasn’t that Misty had never used her bionic arm for this kind of thing when they were dating--she had, definitely--it was just that it was always just cold enough to surprise him. Every time.

He heard her chuckling behind him, rubbing her hand down the curve of his ass further, fingers slipping towards his hole. He chuckled softly, shifting his hips back eagerly.

“And what's so funny?” She asked, leaning forward to press a kiss to his lower back.

“You're going to enter the dragon.” He said, voice light. Her hand--the organic one--connected with his ass cheek, the slap echoing loudly in the living room. He giggled, pressing his hips back towards her again.

“That is the cheesiest damn thing. I swear you get it from Lu--” She stopped herself, hands sliding to his thighs. She knew. Danny was silently thankful that she had realized what she was saying…but, at the same time, oddly thankful that she had almost said it in the first place. That they were so entwined that it was hard to not bring him up. Hell, he'd brought him up earlier. He probably wasn't capable of _not_ mentioning him.

Misty's fingers interrupted his thoughts--metal fingers slick with lube running between his ass cheeks. A thrill of arousal shot up his spine, and the thoughts were tossed aside. Impeccable timing as always on Misty's part.

“Damn, baby. You're hungry for it aren't you?” She used her other hand to spread him, and he eagerly tried to shift his thighs wider. There was only so much he could manage with his jeans still pooled around his knees, though. The texture of her bionic fingers against his hole made his eyelids flutter. It was always a strange sensation, but so familiar, too. She pressed a finger in easily--slick and streamlined, although Danny was sure it helped that he had been fucking himself into exhaustion for the past week or so. It wasn't long before she pressed in another finger. He could take it.

“Misty?” How small his voice was surprised him. She stopped thrusting into him, and he could practically hear her smirk at his soft whimper.

“Yeah, Danny?” Her organic hand snaked between his leg, stroking his cock in one long pull. A fat drop off pre-cum dribbled from the head, falling onto the couch. His legs were shaking--she was so good to him. Fuck.

“Can you…uh, the whole hand? Please?” The thought of it already had him feeling like he was on fire. To be used, to show off what a mess he was, to scare her and everyone else away with this bullshit. Maybe it wasn't that deep, really, maybe he just wanted to cum. Maybe it was all of that.

“No, sweetie.” Misty answered, pressing another kiss to his back. She stayed there longer this time, hovering over him. The curls of her afro and her soft breaths tickled against his skin. “I'm doing a lot for you as is.” It was true. He buried his head in his arms, breathing in the smell of her couch. He could still hear the movie, but he didn't want to look at it anymore. Still, he shifted his hips back against her fingers still, breath hitching when they rubbed against his prostate.

“Thank you,” The words came out thick, close to a sob as she pressed those two fingers in deep, rubbing his prostate as she steadily stroked his cock. Pre-cum was leaking from him like a fountain, bubbling up with each press of her fingers. Then, she turned on the vibrate function. Well, now everyone in the apartment would know what they were up to. Danny moaned again, trailing off into a whine as he fucked himself on her fingers, the pressure against his prostate combined with the vibrations driving him crazy. There was a stream of nonsense coming from his mouth, swear words and Misty’s name and a whole lot of prayers to Shao-Lao that the dragon probably wouldn't appreciate much.

He was pretty sure he'd been cumming since she turned it on, his cock gushing, but she was still stroking him through it. She scissored her fingers, pressing the smooth pads of them to each side of his prostate, and his hips bucked desperately. He was going to be running on empty for hours if she kept milking him like this. And she did. Danny whimpered, begging some garbled nonsense when she pulled her fingers out. Every time she stroked his cock a bit more cum dribbled out, but clearly he was slowing down. His balls tightened, trying to force out more as her grip slid down his cock from base to head, but there simply wasn't much to give. The tips of her fingers, still vibrating, teased around the edge of his hole. His hips canted uselessly, small, aborted thrusts. He was so fucking tired.

She pulled her hand away finally, scooting closer to him before she turned him on his side. Shuffling his pants off his legs, he let himself settle on the couch.

“That's still as fun as it ever was.” She commented, laying down behind him. Her hand moved to his waist, then down to his now soft cock, rubbing and stroking it gently. The shocks of overstimulation made him shudder, but it was warm and pleasant as well. Then she moved her hand to his stomach, palm pressed softly against his abs. Spooned together, sticky with cum and sweaty from sex, they both fell asleep as the movie credits rolled.

Danny woke up first, unaware of how long he'd been asleep, names of the people he'd been trying to not think about heavy on his tongue. Someone warm and gorgeous was pressed against his back, and he felt guilt settle in his gut for thinking it wasn't the right someone. He untangled himself from Misty’s arms, careful to not wake her up. She was a light sleeper, but hey, he was a trained ninja. It had to balance out, right? He wiggled off the couch, picking his jeans off the floor. Leaving was kind of a dick move, but staying would be worse. Way worse.

He stopped to look at Misty--her dark brown skin reflected the dim, blueish light of the television beautifully, and the way her bra strap had fallen down off her shoulder was endearing. Real dumbass for fucking that one up, Danny noted. She was amazing. He wished he could love her the way he had wanted to, back then. She shifted in her sleep, long legs rubbing together and her nose wrinkling cutely. Danny gathered his t-shirt from where it had been tossed, pulling it on along with his jeans. He cast a sidelong glance at the shower, but decided against it. Misty would already be pissed that he ran off, so abusing her hospitality by mooching off her shower was a definite no. He stopped at the door to look at her again. Out of his league--even as a friend. He didn't deserve her. It was a miracle she'd stuck around, entertained all this shit…offered to help instead of laughing him off her doorstep. He closed the door as quietly as possible behind him, locking it with the spare key he still had, after all these years.

Maybe it was a good thing she knew about all of this, he told himself as he walked down the hallway. Maybe. He could use a friend right now, after all.


	3. Daredevil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny finds out he may have a bit of a costume kink. Danny doesn't find out who Daredevil is.
> 
> (We're reaching the part of the fic where the kink tags are important. So:   
> costume kink, deepthroating, spit/drool, oral sex, vaginal sex, creampie, rough sex)

He had intended to just catch his breath. Sure, the night was winding down and it was getting close enough to a ridiculously early hour that he could've just called it a night, but that hadn't been the plan. The plan had been to catch his breath for a bit, do a final sweep to catch any stragglers, and then call it a night.

Stupid. He should've known better--when had any of the plans he'd set up ever worked out the way he planned? The answer was a comforting “never.” So honestly, he entirely should've expected this.

“Iron Fist.” The voice was familiar--gravelly either because of trying to purposefully hide his identity or taking too many hits to the throat. Maybe both, actually.

“Daredevil.” He lifted his hand in a sort of half-wave. Judgement be damned--he'd been patrolling all night, he was allowed to be tired. The vigilante's lips quirked up into a smirk at Danny's wave--shit, had Daredevil's lips always looked that nice?

“Didn't expect to see you patrolling without Luke. Or at night. Couldn't sleep?” Daredevil's tone was light, as if he already knew he was treading into dangerous territory. Maybe he did know. He had that thing where he could tell if someone was lying or not. Shit… He'd really rather be talking to someone he could lie to.

Half-truths didn't count as lies, did they? The lying thing didn't really make much sense to Danny in the slightest, if he was being honest, but hey. When in Rome… Avoid lying to people who are supposed to be your friends. Especially if they could find you out. That was how the saying went, right?

“Figured it'd help me clear my head.” He shrugged, pushing off the wall he'd been leaning on so that he could get closer to Daredevil. Maybe this wasn't that bad of a change of plans. Damn if that dumb cowl didn't seem to draw even more attention to those lips.

Daredevil turned his head in Danny's direction, nostrils flaring. Danny took immediate notice--had he been smelling him? That should definitely be weird, not hot. But it was kind of hot anyway.

“Did it?”

“Huh?”

“Did it help you clear your head?” Danny followed the movement of Daredevil's lips, almost losing focus on the words coming out of them. Well, the patrol had cleared his head a bit… But now there was definitely something else clouding it.

Shit, could Daredevil sense boners the way he could sense if people were lying? He hoped not.

“A bit,” He answered. And it had. Until Daredevil had decided to show up being all hot and all that bullshit. And bringing up the fact that Danny was running around without Luke. All by himself, free to do...well. Superhero hook-ups were a thing-- he'd never gotten into a spur-of-the moment rooftop fling (although he was sure people would assume he had), however.

He wondered if that was even Daredevil's kind of thing. Despite the sexy leather get-up, he'd heard that the horned hero was kind of uptight. Then again, he'd heard that from Spider-Man, and everyone seemed pretty uptight in comparison to the webslinger.

“You seem to have a lot on your mind for someone who's cleared their head, Iron Fist.” That crooked smirk was on Daredevil's face again. Had he gotten closer?

“Are you flirting with me?” The question had blurted out of Danny's mouth before he could stop it. Stupid. Even if he had been interested before, now he knew he was talking to a class-A dumbass.

“Do you want me to be flirting with you?” He asked, facing Danny fully. Danny felt himself blush to the tips of his ears.

“Maybe. Sort of.” He chuckled awkwardly. Daredevil stepped even closer--close enough that Danny could feel his body heat, could smell the leather. Fuck, he was harder than goddamn steel in his pants now--it didn't matter whether Daredevil had boner sensing powers or not, now. Anyone with _eyes_ could see that he had a fucking hard-on.

“Cute.” Daredevil’s hand was on Danny’s hip--then his thigh, thumb rubbing surprisingly gentle circles right next to where his cock was painfully hard in his pants. Shit, why did superhero outfits have to be so tight?

“Wow, this is really happening.” He muttered, brain-to-mouth filter not nearly fast enough to catch it before it slipped out. Daredevil froze suddenly, his head rearing back a bit. Danny cursed at himself internally as the hand on his thigh retreated. Daredevil went from cutting an imposing, sexy figure to looking very small.

“I don't… I've never actually done this before.” It was a bit weird to hear the gritty voice that was usually threaten bad guys admit something like that. It was also weirdly endearing. Danny couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him.

“Me neither--I'm not exactly hooking up with heroes left and right, y’know?” Okay, so that had become a bit of a lie recently, but whatever. “I figured… You coming on strong like that, and hey, you're hot, so, why not?” Daredevil smirked, and Danny's cock was at full attention again despite the awkwardness.

“It's easier to be fearless with the mask on, I guess.”

“You can keep it on.” Danny answered, too quickly. Now Daredevil, of all people, was going to think he had a costume kink or something. “Uh, I know your secret identity is important to you anyhow, and all…” Danny added, hoping it would distract from how badly he wanted to fuck Daredevil in that stupid sexy devil outfit.

“Thanks.” His voice was even rougher when he said that, stepping back forward to put his hands on Danny's hips again. Danny leaned forward into the touch a bit, excited for the press of body to body, only to be slammed against the wall.

The impact winded him, but not as much as seeing the hero in front of him drop to his knees, hands gripping tighter on Danny's thin hips. A thrill went up his spine as he hysterically thought about stupid lines about putting those lips to good use.

Then Daredevil mouthed at his cock through his pants and his mind went blank. Even through his tights and his jock the hot breath and wetness had him groaning, rolling his hips forward. Daredevil's hands tightened on his hips, pressing him back into the wall. Danny whined. Then, one of the hands was scrabbling at his outfit, trying to find the seam of his pants to tug them down. Danny moved his hands down to help, pushing his pants down. Daredevil yanked his jock down too, just enough that it cradled Danny's balls, shoving everything forward. Presenting him.

Danny blinked rapidly, resisting the urge to throw his head back. He wanted to watch. Daredevil's hand--thick leather glove still on--stroked up his cock lovingly. Then, the hero dove down to tongue at Danny's balls. Danny fleetingly thought that there was no way this was actually happening--that it was a really fucking amazing dream--but then Daredevil sucked one of his balls into his mouth and suddenly Danny couldn't think much at all.

Daredevil pulled away, the hands that had been on Danny's hips suddenly grabbing Danny's own, directing them to his head. He gazed up at Danny--the red eye holes of the mask making him shudder (Didn't they make it hard to see? Didn't matter. It was hot.) as Daredevil opened his mouth. Danny hesitated. His thumb rubbed against one of the horns on Daredevil's head. At the movement, Daredevil tipped his head back further, wordlessly begging. Danny moved one of his hands from where Daredevil had placed them and wrapped it loosely around the base of his cock.

“Say it.” He said, holding his cock up just out of reach of Daredevil's mouth. Maybe masks really did help with being fearless. The hero’s nostrils flared. Smelling him. Danny groaned softly.

“Fuck my mouth.” Daredevil said, voice rough enough that it sounded like Danny already had. Danny was struck with the sudden thought that he and Daredevil wanted the same thing out of this--maybe for different reasons, maybe not. Either way. Fingers tight around the base of his cock, Danny shoved in, hand on Daredevil's head working to press him closer. He took his hand away from his cock, joining the other and pressing further. The supple leather under his hands felt amazing--he ran his fingers over the curve, appreciating how it was shaped around the man's skull.

Daredevil's throat squeezed around his cock as the man gagged a bit. Before Danny could pull back, though, the hero forced himself down further, nose rubbing hard against Danny's blondish-brown pubes. Danny moaned at that, feeling both guilty and amazing.

Was this what it was like to fuck someone who was desperate to just not feel for a few hours? Fuck, no _wonder_ people agreed to sleep with him.

Danny tightened his grip on Daredevil's head, still stroking the horns almost reverently. He pushed him down just a bit harder before forcing his head all the way back off his cock, watching the strings of drool connect him to the heroes mouth, plush lips spit slicked and already starting to get puffy and red.

“Shit.” It was barely a whisper as he lowered Daredevil--and fuck if that thought didn't make this hotter than any other kind of anonymous sex he could be having--back onto his cock. He thrust shallowly, almost lazily, dragging the head of his cock over the man's tongue and watching drool spill down his chin. The costume only really showed the man's mouth. Somehow, that made it even hotter. He started thrusting deeper, enjoying the choked off noises as Daredevil worked to keep from gagging. When he was all the way down his throat again, he realized the hero’s hands had moved between his legs, rubbing almost desperately.

He pulled out again, drool bubbling forth from around his cock. A small cough escaped the hero, and he tilted his head down, letting spit spill onto the pavement of the roof. He lifted his head again, mouth open. Begging. Lips swollen and chin covered in frothy drool. Danny slapped the head of his cock against his tongue, but pulling away before those eager lips could close around it. Daredevil whined. The man without fear, the devil of Hell’s Kitchen, whined about not being able to suck Danny's cock.

If he hadn't had the presence of mind to squeeze the base of his cock, he would've cum. Just the thought was going to fuel his jack off fantasies for weeks. Which was a vast improvement on what had been fueling his fantasies.

“Can I fuck you?” Danny asked, near mesmerized by the movement of Daredevil's hands rubbing between his leather-clad thighs. The hero hesitated for a bit before nodding.

“Yeah. Fuck, yeah.” He stumbled to his feet--the sight made Danny's stomach clench with a strange, half euphoric feeling. Never in his whole career had he seen Daredevil look this shaky on his feet.

“How do you wanna, umm…” Danny realized with sudden clarity that there wasn't really anywhere comfortable to fuck here. After all, it was a rooftop--there was the door to the stairwell, a few vents, and an expanse of flat pavement. Daredevil didn't seem to mind the possible discomfort. He sat down on the roof, spreading his legs and beckoning Danny to sidle up between them. Well, Danny supposed if Daredevil was willing to deal with some knee pain to suck his dick, it was only fair. Danny reached forward to try and hazard a guess about how the complicated leather outfit came off--if it did come off at all, that was.

Wait, Daredevil wouldn't have agreed to fuck if it didn't come off, right? That'd be stupid. He fiddled with a clasp near the front of the costume’s belt, hoping it wasn't too obvious how clueless he was.

“I've got it.” Daredevil's hands were pushing his away, working the belt and clasps and snaps like some secret safe combination. Danny felt he must've spaced out a bit, lost in his arousal about this ridiculous situation, because when he looked again, Daredevil's crotch was exposed. Danny supposed there did have to be a way for him to go to the bathroom in that ridiculous suit, after all.

Daredevil’s crotch was also very, very pretty. Danny might've whimpered a bit at the sight. Just a bit. Who could blame him, really?

Daredevil’s pubes were ginger, the curls already soaked because of how wet the hero was. His thick clit throbbed in time with his heavy breaths, so hard he was twitching with arousal.

“Oh.” Danny was embarrassed by the roughness of his own voice. There was plenty of things about tonight that he probably never would've guessed, but Daredevil having an absolutely gorgeous pussy was fighting for first place on that list.

“May I?” He let his fingers skirt around Daredevil’s innermost thigh, biting his lip at the way the hero thrust up into the touch.

“You weren't this polite about putting your dick in my mouth.” The hero cocked his head, grinning. The urge to shove him down flat on the floor and fuck him until that smirk was gone flared up, searing hot in his mind. Danny ignored it. He touched his fingers to his mouth, tangy after running through Daredevil’s juices, sucking them lightly. He tried not to let his feelings get hurt about the fact that Daredevil didn't seem to be watching the show. Oh well. His loss. He took them out of his mouth, making sure to make a sloppy, wet noise as he did so. He circled the wet tip of his finger around the head of Daredevil's clit, softly pushing back the hood as he rubbed it.

“You're really big.” He commented, loving the way his clit jumped under his fingers at the compliment.

“Just fuck me already.” Daredevil all but growled, already a mess of moans and shivers. Danny nodded, putting a hand on the man's shoulder and pushing him back so he was lying prone, thighs spread open and pussy pulsing with arousal.

“Do you happen to have any lube?” Danny asked sheepishly. “Or, umm, condoms too actually…” He stroked his cock a few times, hissing at how good it felt, especially with such a pretty sight to help out. Daredevil lifted himself up a bit, and even through the mask Danny felt like he was being given a dirty look.

“Do it raw. Don't bother with prep, either, or I'm throwing you off this roof.”

Well. It was hard to argue with that.

“Well, actually then… Can we...uh.” Danny repositioned himself, scooting back to the wall and bracing his feet against the floor, knees bent and thighs spread wide. He patted his lap with his free hand, the other one still stroking his cock. “Like this. It'll be easier in this position.” Who needed preparation when you had gravity, right? Daredevil pushed himself off the ground, hand moving to press between his legs as he walked over. He stood in front of Danny, damp curls in his face, the smell washing over him. Payback was a bitch. After what seemed like an eternity--it couldn't have been that long, but the temptation to lean forward and close his mouth over that clit was stupidly powerful--Daredevil finally started moving.

Danny figured, delirious as Daredevil slid down his body, gloved hand grabbing his cock to guide it so that it pressed against his sopping wet hole, that this was the best fuck he'd ever had. It was working. Actually working. His head was clear--or maybe it was cloudy?--of every thought other than sinking his dick into that pussy. _Good fucking lord_ , no _wonder_ people liked anonymous sex. The head of his cock pressed in, and without warning Daredevil beared down, sinking all the way onto his cock. Fuck, maybe it was really fucked up to think so, but Danny was pretty sure this could take his mind off his fucked up life better than meditation ever had.

Daredevil was panting in his ear, hot and wet, and his pussy was so tight around him that for a few golden seconds, Danny genuinely thought he was going to pass out. God, he really would manage to fuck up one of the best hook-ups he'd ever had with something stupid like that, wouldn't he? Luckily, he didn't pass out. He thrust back up to meet Daredevil, the amount of slick between them making every thrust sound filthy wet. Daredevil wasn't particularly noisy, but the small grunts and breathy moans were plenty for Danny.

His hands gripped at the hero's ass, trying to get leverage to thrust harder. It must've worked, because Daredevil got louder, even if just by a bit. His pussy tightened around him in waves, and Danny let go, feeling his hard clit twitch against his stomach, where they were pressed together as tightly as they could be.

“Cum inside me.” That rough voice was even rougher, from sucking his dick, from the quick, dirty fuck, from… Everything. Danny groaned, overwhelmed by the sound and by the request.

It was a bad idea. It was a really, _really_ bad idea.

But it was a really, really bad idea that could take his mind off _him_ \--them--if only for a few days.

He pushed off the wall, rolling them to the floor so that Daredevil was flat on his back again, no longer worried about lack of preparation now that they'd been fucking. Daredevil had cum on top of that, the afterglow making him relaxed and pliable. He pistoned his cock into him, the slap of skin against skin noisy, the movement punching rough breaths out of both of them. He could feel Daredevil's thighs shaking, wondering if he was close to cumming again as he fucked him hard enough to bruise. He didn't have to wonder for much longer--Daredevil's hips thrust up sharply to meet his, pussy tightening around Danny's dick in a way that made his vision go a bit fuzzy.

He shoved inside deeper, as far as he could get, hands grabbing at Daredevil’s hips as he came. The collapsed into a sweaty heap on the roof, too tired to feel much of anything for a few moments. Then, Daredevil was pushing at Danny's chest, squirming his way out from under him. Danny lifted himself up, pulling out slowly and trying to bite back his moan when some of his cum leaked out of Daredevil’s pussy.

“Thanks.” It was Daredevil who spoke first--standing up on wobbly legs, cum starting to drip down his thigh.

“Uh. Yeah.” Danny rubbed the back of his neck. His brain was still too fuzzy--desperate to get it back up, too, because of the sight of his cum contrasted with pale skin and red leather--to really let the guilt set in, but that wasn't going to stop the awkwardness. Daredevil was doing his pants back up, not seeming to mind the mess between his legs. Or rather… He liked it, Danny guessed. Like to feel the slick, squishy mess, hidden inside his clothes. Fuck, Danny would kill to be able to get hard again right then and there.

“Hey, you said you've never done this before, right?” Danny asked, standing up to tuck himself back into his pants, shuffling a bit.

“Yeah. Why?” Daredevil seemed spaced out--mind a million miles away. It felt a bit disappointing to know that he wasn't able to clear the hero's mind the way that it had for him.

“Just, uh, wondering if you'd want to do it again sometime?” Danny winced at his own offer. He sounded like a tool. Not to mention it was probably really rude to set up a continuous hook-up when you were in love with someone else… And when you were hooking up with other people… And when you were a walking disaster. Daredevil smirked, though, hand moving between his legs to press at his crotch. Danny bit his lower lip, a wave of arousal hitting him in the gut over the fact that the vigilante was rubbing his cum into his pussy.

“Maybe. I guess we both could use it, huh?” The tension of the question hung in the air. _We're both messes. We both want to fuck to forget. Why not take advantage?_

“Yeah.” Danny chuckled, but it felt odd in his mouth--cynical. Daredevil’s smirk seemed to take a bitter edge to it, and then he was gone. Into the night, leaving Danny on a rooftop thinking about where you would rank this kind of thing on a scale of being Fucked Up. He adjusted his pants again before starting the walk back home.

The sun was starting to rise, so there was no real point in patrolling anymore. He stared off in the direction of Heroes for Hire, contemplating going to the office, wondering if it would be as bad now that he'd actually had a fuck that had taken his mind off… All of that. Better not, actually.

He slunk back to his brownstone, guilt finally setting in.


	4. Frank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny makes a bad decision. 
> 
> (BIG WARNINGS: murder of some random bad guys,un-negotiated kink, choking, very rough sex, deep throating, gun play, light ball busting, dirty talk, fisting. I think Frank is a character whose moral grey areas make him really interesting--if you're going to ask whether he was actually being terrible, or being terrible for Danny's benefit, the answer is...both?)

Danny had been running solo on the streets a lot more often lately. A lot more. If cases needed footwork, he was already out the door. Maybe he was being a bit obvious about it. Luke hadn't said anything though. Just gave Danny a kind of sad, resigned look whenever he ran off. That made it worse.

Work kept his mind off it. Or, really, he told himself work kept his mind off it. Sometimes, it genuinely did. Although it also helped that sometimes “work” ended with him buried balls deep in Daredevil on a fire escape, or getting tugged off in the Rand Corporation bathroom.

Even without the sex, though, sometimes roughing up some piece of shit purse snatchers just felt good. Reminded him that he didn't suck at everything on the face of the planet. At least he had two things down pat: being a hero, and being a good lay. Three things, actually. He was also really good at being a fuck up.

Tonight felt kind of like a culmination of the three.

He was busting heads near enough to Hell's Kitchen that he could catch some attention without feeling like he was stealing any territory--he didn't really know whether Daredevil was all that possessive of the area, but it paid to be cautious. It was a great plan, as far as Danny was concerned. Not to mention he'd been cooped up in the actual office for Heroes for Hire all day--they'd gotten to the part of the case that was mostly just paperwork--and it had him on edge. He just needed to kick some ass--check--and get laid. Not too tall an order, Danny liked to think.

A gunshot echoed against brick walls, and one of the Maggia goons he had been fighting dropped like a sack of potatoes.

So much for this night being easy. Danny whipped around, scowling at the figure standing at the end of the alley.

“What the fuck!” He couldn't really come up with anything smarter. For the first time in a while, he wished he wasn't patrolling by himself. Luke was good at saying responsible shit that still sounded cool somehow. Probably because Luke was actually responsible. Unlike certain friends of his running around back alleys and hooking up with people whose secret identities he didn't know.

“Oh, please.” Frank spat on the ground before walking forward, heavy combat boots noisy against the concrete. “I even made sure to not get any blood on you.” He smirked before unloading the rest of the clip into one of the unconscious mob members on the ground. All the ones who could still move had scattered at the first gunshot. Danny tried not to flinch, but he wasn't quite sure if he managed. His ears rang from the gunfire so close to him. His scowl only deepened.

“What are you doing here, Punisher?”

“Aww, are you grumpy cuz you wanted to see your little devil boyfriend, not me?” This time, Danny definitely flinched. Frank's smirk only grew wider. Sharp, predatory. “Was I not supposed to know about that? Might wanna be a bit sneakier about things then, bud. Unless you're into getting caught. Next time it might be someone less discreet than me.” He holstered his gun. Danny couldn't help but bark out a laugh about that.

“ _You're_ discreet?” He laughed again, cynical. He didn't want to be going toe to toe against the Punisher in an alley. This was the dude who shot Wolverine in the goddamn nuts. Anyone crazy enough for that was pretty firmly on the Do Not Fuck With list.

“I think you'll find I can be _real_ fuckin’ discreet if need be.” Frank reached down and grabbed himself through his jeans, smirking like he knew the secrets to the damn universe. Danny recoiled.

“If you think I'm gonna go for you after I just watched you kill two men, you're worse than people already say you are.” He was glad the words came out of his mouth, because the part of his brain that was absolutely idiotic was trying to sort out if the Do Not Fuck With list was really the same as a Do Not Fuck list.

He was pretty sure it was.

His dick was significantly less sure.

“I think you don't need me to be a good guy, you just need me to have a big dick. And I do.” Frank chuckled. Danny hated the way his cock jumped in his pants at the sound.

“I'm not easy, you know.” He hissed, stepping around Frank, trying not to think about how he was essentially a walking armory, or how he could shoot him with any of nine or so guns strapped to his stupidly muscular body. Trying not to think about how that was weirdly hot, and, honestly, what the _fuck_ , brain.

“You're right, you're not easy. But you're pretty desperate to get off instead of bein’ in your head.” Danny stopped in his tracks. Did the fucking Punisher, of all people, know about this whole trainwreck too? About Luke? ….About Jess?

“Cool it, rich boy. I don't know what the fuck your specific damage is. But it's not like you're exactly special. You think I don't wanna forget about life for a while? Fuck's sake.”

That was the exact moment Danny knew he'd gone off the fucking rails, because the next words out of his mouth were: “Can we at least move to an alley where there isn't two dead bodies?”

Frank smiled--an actual smile, not a smirk, and that was maybe the weirdest thing about this whole clusterfuck of weird--and clapped a hand on Danny's shoulder, steering him down behind one of the brick buildings. Frank Castle--the infamous Frank Castle, the Punisher, the dude that there was at least three documentaries about, was dragging him into an alley for a fuck. Danny was rock fucking hard, and hated himself for it. So much for not being easy. Frank leaned against the wall, letting Danny stand there feeling like a dumbass.

“Well, come on. Don't gotta think if you're too busy being a slut, right?” Frank's hands--large, callused--were on his shoulders, and then one was on top of his head, pressing insistently. Danny couldn't stop the moan that escaped him as he crumpled to his knees at Frank's insistence, face to face with the bulge in those jeans. Fuck, at least he'd been telling the truth about his dick being big. The hand on his head moved back to the base of his skull, almost gentle for a moment before Frank shoved Danny against the fly of his jeans.

“C’mon, you know the internet exists now, right? People can't shut up about how they got a superhero to suck their dick at the local bar. I keep tabs on people, rich boy.” Danny groaned against the denim, mouthing against the line of Frank's hardening cock. People were posting on the internet about what a whore he was. Shit, what if they had seen? Jessica was a goddamn detective, what if-- “Too in your head still.” Frank grunted, pulling him back by the tie of his mask. One of those large hands was in view, fumbling with a belt buckle and undoing those jeans just enough to push underwear out of the way and pull out his cock.

Danny stared. He didn't mean to, but it was hard not to. Frank's cock was huge. Thick, veiny, looking like it had a weight to it that Danny wanted on his tongue so badly. Frank lifted it with his hand, hefting the weight of it, smacking it against Danny's cheek. Danny looked up at Frank, letting his mouth fall open without even being asked. That made the man chuckle.

“There we go. Empty headed fuckin’ slut.” Frank rubbed his dick on Danny's face, pre-cum sliding over his skin. Danny whined, mouth open and wanting. It went ignored. Frank slapped his dick against Danny's cheek again. Then, he let his dick go and slapped him with his actual hand. Danny's hips jumped forward. Frank looked half spaced out as he slapped Danny again, before picking his dick back up and coaxing Danny onto it. His jaw ached and his throat struggled to close up at the intrusion. So fucking big. The hand on the back of his head pushed him forward, holding him there when he reached the base.

His throat burned, breathing heavily through his nose as Frank held him there. And held him there. And held him--when he thought he was going to pass out, Frank's hand was yanking him back suddenly, letting him cough and spit all over those combat boots.

“You really do take a dick like a champ.” He said. His boot moved to press in-between Danny's legs, steel toe brushing his balls. His hips jerked forward at that, desperate for the friction. In response to that, Frank shoved his foot forward a bit too hard, making Danny's legs buckle at the sudden pain. His cock twitched. Fuck, he was fucked up for sure for this. Frank shoved him onto his dick again--Danny felt a rush of arousal this time, now that he knew what was coming.

Frank smelled like sweat and gunpowder, his pubes musky with the scent of sex. Danny wondered if he'd fucked someone else like this right before propositioning him. This time, when Frank pulled him off, Danny didn't go to cough, instead swallowing Frank's dick back down, bobbing on it until he was back down to the base on his own. His hands went to the fly of Frank's jeans, using the fabric to tug Frank's hips further forward, trying to get even deeper.

“ _Fuck_ , you're a fuckin’ freak.” Frank breathed. Danny tried to nod, and suddenly the need to gag swept over him with a new sense of urgency. He pulled off, turning to cough hard enough that he needed to double over. The fact that his cock was still hard was mortifying. The fact that he was doing this was mortifying.

“Hey.” Frank said, drawing Danny's attention. One of his hands was on Danny's chin, then, lifting his face to look up at him. “Open wide, sweetheart.”

Danny did.

Frank spit in his mouth. He swallowed it without question. His dick throbbed, stomach clenching at the idea of being the Punisher's fucktoy. Frank laughed at that, boot jostling against Danny's balls again. He whined.

“Hey sweetheart. Do me a favor.” Frank unholstered a gun and Danny felt his heart stop for a few short seconds. He was going to die. He was going to die sucking dick in an alley because he didn't know how to cope with being in love with someone so he did this shit.

The panic cooled a bit when he realized it was the gun that Frank had used earlier. It wasn't loaded. Anymore. That still didn't quiet the anxiety in Danny's stomach… But he was still deliriously horny, too, so it was a bit of a battle to decide whether to leave or not.

“Treat it like you did my dick.” He held it forward, positioning it so that it blocked the line of view for his actual dick. Danny decided to stay.

He ran his tongue over the barrel, trying not to make a face at the taste. Gunpowder wasn't really great for the tastebuds. All he had to do was look up for it to be worth it, though. Frank was mesmerized, eyes cloudy with arousal. Too preoccupied to shield his expression of want and amazement. Danny kept looking up at him as he shoved the barrel deeper into his mouth.

The metal wasn't as forgiving, so he couldn't really get it as far, but he figured that wasn't the point. It's not like the gun could feel it. He pulled back, dragging his tongue over the underside of the barrel, letting his mouth sit there open, metal heavy on his tongue. Frank pulled the gun away suddenly, and then it was pointed at Danny's face. His heart skipped a beat. It wasn't loaded. It wasn't. Frank pointed to the side with the barrel of it, casual.

“All fours, sweetheart. I'm gonna fuck you until you can't think.” Frank motioned with the gun again. “You wanna not think, right?” Danny couldn't do much more than nod obediently. He was mortified, still, but something about the shame burning in his gut seemed to get mixed and confused with the arousal. He obediently shuffled to where Frank was pointing, getting on all fours like he belonged in that position.

“Thanks, sweetheart. Everyone loves a slut who knows how to listen.” That was the only warning he got before his pants were being tugged down. Fuck, had he already played with himself today? Embarrassment blossomed hot in his stomach, fresh and new, making his cock twitch desperately at the thought of Frank teasing him for that.

Thick, callused fingers slid over his hole, and there was a dirty chuckle from behind him.

“Already ready to go for a fuck, huh? I figured you were sluttin’ it up pretty bigtime to end up on the internet, but this is impressive.” He twisted two fingers into him, rough and too fast even with Danny already loose and lubed up. Danny shoved his hips back to the touch. It hurt. He wanted it to.

“Jeeee- _sus_ , I dunno what'll look prettier in there…my dick or my fist.” Frank scissored his fingers, then shoved a third one in. Danny cried out, the sound not quite words. “I know, I know… You want both.” One of those large hands smacked his ass, the hit hard enough to make Danny curse. Frank laughed, thrusting his fingers in roughly. Danny wished he could lie to himself that the burn was making him go soft. His cock was still harder than he thought it may have ever been. Then, Frank was pulling away, metal and fabric jostling for a few moments while Danny all but held his breath.

Frank's hand was on his head again, then shoving him down against the ground. He let it happen--arms folding, palms pressed to concrete, his cheek pressed uncomfortably to the ground. Ass up. Like a slut. Frank slammed his cock into him, and Danny wailed, not concerned about staying quiet. Frank wanted him to be a slut about it. _He_ wanted to be a slut about it. To not have to think about anything other than the fact that he was giving it up to Frank Castle in an alley just because his dick was good.

“Fuck, you're tighter than I thought for someone who spends his time sleeping around.” Frank grunted. Danny moaned. Fuck, did he have a reputation? Was that what it was? Or did Frank just know exactly what kind of filthy loser he wanted to feel like? It was hard to tell.

Danny felt like Frank's cock was splitting him in two--Frank didn't start easy, either, slipping immediately to brutal thrusts, hand pressing down hard on the side of Danny's face. Shoving him into the ground. Most of the thrusts missed his prostate--whether on purpose or because Frank just didn't give a shit about whether Danny came was unclear.

Either way, it was hot.

Either way, Danny _didn't_ cum.

At least, not when Frank did. His other hand pulled Danny's thin hips up higher, high enough that he was on the tips of his toes, as he came inside. Danny hadn't even thought to ask him to use a condom. Frank let go of his hips without warning, letting him fall to the dirty ground, cock popping out of his ass messily.

“Hips back up, sweetheart. If you think I'm done with that slutty ass, you're dreaming.” Frank laughed derisively as Danny scrambled to shove his ass back in the air. He was drooling on the concrete. Fuck, he was disgusting. He hated how much he loved this. Finally, someone who would use him and make him feel like the useless fuck he knew he was. Frank's hands were on his ass again, spreading him, fingers rubbing at his used hole. He could feel the cum starting to leak out, trailing down to his jock. Frank smacked one of his ass cheeks, then grabbed the strap of his jock and snapped it against his skin.

Danny was pretty sure he was crying at this point--he wanted to cum so badly. Frank's fingers were pressing back in--three again, though they slid in easier this time. Danny sobbed, begging with garbled half-words.

“I know sweetheart. I know what you need. That's what this is all about.” Frank said. There was something oddly gentle in his tone. Had all of that been a show? Had he been that rough, that cruel, just because that was exactly what Danny wanted? Danny closed his eyes and moaned loudly. He was right, too. This was exactly what Danny wanted. Or, at the bare minimum, what he thought he wanted. That was good enough.

Danny made an odd whimpering sound as Frank pressed in the fourth finger. He knew he could take it, but it was always toeing the edge of being too much. Dizzying and filling. The fact that there was more to come after that fourth finger made him buck his hips desperately.

He nearly sobbed out loud when Frank pulled his fingers out. Then, the tips of Frank’s fingers were at his hole again. Positioned differently. He could feel the way Frank’s calloused fingertips formed a nice curve over the tip of his thumb. Danny’s eyes rolled back--finally. Frank’s fingers pressed forward, the stretch of five fingers making Danny whimper and tremble. Frank didn’t really stop when the widest part of his hand pressed against Danny’s rim as much as he slowed his movements down to a crawl.

“Please.” Danny’s voice was wrecked and miserable. His brain couldn’t connect whether this was the worst or best thing that had ever happened to him. The white noise and the buzzing arousal inside his skull only made it harder to decide. Then, he didn’t need to. The stretch and burn of Frank’s knuckles pressing against his hole came to a head, his body finally giving way. He was so full. So, so full. The noise he made was odd, strangled, as he came, clenching around the hand inside him. His cum soaked through the fabric of his jock.

That sudden sort of sobriety that hits post-orgasm reminded him, almost naggingly, that he was going to have to walk home like this.

“You good?” Frank’s hand--the one that was free--was drawing soothing circles on Danny’s hip with its thumb. The sudden face-turn seemed to seep the experience a few inches deeper into what must’ve been the Twilight Zone. Frank’s tone seemed soft. Concerned. He must’ve been hallucinating--the man had just spit in his mouth. Fucked him hard enough that he had scrapes from the asphalt.

Concerned? He must have been projecting.

“Yeah.” No harm, no foul when it came to answering, right? Danny was sure he must’ve slipped into some alternate dimension during the fuck. Could good dick do that? Maybe. Science had never been Danny’s forte. Frank made a soft sound, and gently twisted the hand that was still inside Danny. Suddenly aware of how sore he was, Danny whimpered as Frank pulled out.

"I’m taking you home.” Frank wiped his hands on his jeans and moved to help Danny up. Half-delirious, Danny accepted it.

Weirder things had happened. Maybe. He honestly wasn’t quite sure. This still had to rank around the top 5. He wasn’t sure if any of what had just happened had been real.

“You just got done almost killing me with your dick.” It wasn’t a question. It had quite a few questions jammed between the words, but that was true for a lot of things Danny said. People didn’t usually get it. They didn’t usually bother to.

“Yeah, but I’m not fuckin’ evil. C’mon.” Frank pulled Danny’s pants back on, not that it meant much with how filthy they were. Then, he slung Danny’s arm over his shoulders to support him. Danny figured he could try to question it later. Right now, with the ache that was settling in his jaw and his…well, everything else, home sounded perfect.


End file.
